


Monty and the Excalibur

by Helice



Category: King Arthur: Legend of the Sword (2017)
Genre: F/M, partly inspired by Monty Python and the Holy Grail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 09:02:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11033004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helice/pseuds/Helice
Summary: "I will marry her." Said King Arthur, though no one among the round table knows the true name of his mage, including himself.





	Monty and the Excalibur

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Monty and the Excalibur](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10979844) by [BrokenIto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenIto/pseuds/BrokenIto). 



> Author's Note: My first foray into Arthurian legend was Monty Python and the Holy Grail.

——

Arthur looked through the thready gaps of the sack covering his head and yawned in boredom. “You know I could see through this? Trees. Everywhere.”

Nobody answered. The stream trickled. Birds fluttered above them. Arthur swallowed as twigs snapped underneath the horses’ hooves. 

“Mage?” He was only guessing his head was turning towards her direction. “Let me ask you something, do you know how many swallows does it take to carry a coconut shell from Africa to England?”

“……” 

The other two didn’t even turn their heads. Only Rubio quietly spurred his horse to Arthur’s side: “British swallows or African ones?”

 

——

“You are resisting the sword. The sword isn’t resisting you.”

Arthur looked at Mage’s back, her silhouette lit by the fire. He sat up from the bed. 

“It talks to you?”

Mage turned and looked back at him sideways, pupils thinning into to golden slits. 

Arthur raised his hand in surrender. He doesn’t like snakes.

“It belongs to you,” she said. 

“But I don’t belong to it.” He argued. “Even where I come from, if I tell people I get a cut on every trade in that block just because a dripping wet girl came outta the water and handed my da a sword – Hey!” 

A bat landed square on his head. 

Mage was gone by the time he got the stinky fluff ball out of his hair. 

Bill poked his head in, holding a beer. “Don’t eat the bat shit. I heard that could make people crazy, _sire_.”

 

——

“We need to take him to the Dark Lands.”

“He is _NOT_ going to the Dark Lands!” Bedivere exclaimed.

 

——

“Welcome to the Dark Lands!” Bedivere said. 

Arthur squinted at the distant island and the ruins on it, fingers tapping at the scabbard. He looked back at Mage: she’s gutting a fish for her eagle at the right side of the boat, fingers stained red with blood. The huge bird of prey perched carefully on the railing, pecking off rich yellow fish seeds and pink flesh from her hand. 

 

——

“What did you see in the Dark Lands?” Blue asked him, sitting at his bed side.

Arthur opened his mouth and felt every muscle and bone in him ached. 

“Get me something to drink first,” he said. Blue ran out with an empty mug and ran back with a full one. 

“Thanks Blue.” 

He took a mouthful. 

“…water?” Arthur grimaced, rather strangely with his black eye. 

“The girl said you can’t drink right now, ” Back Lack shrugged. 

“’course boss! She doesn’t know you at all!” Blue yelled. Back Lack promptly cuffed his son on the back of his head. 

“I rather think I know her pretty well.” Arthur held the mug in contemplation. “Who’s ready for some stories about the Dark Lands?”

 

——

“You saved me.” Her voice sounded weaker than usual. “Thank you.”

Arthur took the cloth and washed the blood off her. 

“The people have seen what you can do. They are fighting in your name.” She said. 

He heard the words, but he only saw the wound on her shoulder blade. His Mage was quite thin, he could even make out the boney edge underneath the skin. Looks like a person can’t always keep feeding the birds and snakes before filling their own stomach.

He cleaned up her wound and pulled away. 

If only she’s just a girl, he thought. But she is not, any more than he is just a pimp running a brothel in Londinium. 

 

——

The Table was not yet completed, but that’s hardly going to stop them from eating at it, and no one minded that the floor was still covered in sawdust anyway. The spring chickens cooked in George’s recipe were tender and juicy, and even Bill had to mind his table manner so as to not spoil his fine embroidery with the sauce. Arthur wolfed down a wing with his pick from Vortigern’s cellar and threw the bare bones on the tabletop. 

“I am going to marry her,” he said.

“Who?”

“Mage.”

“Tell that to her face,” said Bill.

“I don’t even know her name,” said George.

“ _Arthur_ doesn’t even know her name,” said Bedivere. 

“I bet she’s got a long name.”

“Maybe she can’t tell you her name.”

“Maybe she doesn’t like Arthur enough to tell him her name.”

Something breezed overhead and the candle lights dimmed for moment. Arthur looked up to see the eagle perching on the chandelier. 

He stood and offered it the chickens’ hearts and livers on a silver plate. 

“Please marry me?” Arthur said.

The eagle dived down, took his offerings and flew out of the window.

“We are fucked, our new queen is a bird,” Bill said.

~ END ~


End file.
